Ovi -
we cover every issue
Resource for Foreigners in Finland  
Ovi Bookshop - Free Ebook
worldwide creative inspiration
Ovi Language
Books by Avgi Meleti
Stop violence against women
Tony Zuvela - Cartoons, Illustrations
Stop human trafficking
BBC News :   - 
iBite :   - 
A Sea of Tears A Sea of Tears
by Katerina Charisi
2020-06-21 09:10:25
Print - Comment - Send to a Friend - More from this Author
DeliciousRedditFacebookDigg! StumbleUpon

I filled the bathtub with water and now I just stand there, staring at the motionless transparent liquid while the kids are excited thinking that they are going to have a bubble bath, so they run in their room and come back with their toys on hands. No. The water is cold. I filled it with cold water.

I take my clothes off and get in. When my toes touch the water a deep shiver runs down my spine and like a sudden awakening I feel my senses alerted. The muscles tighten and for a second I even feel my vision and hearing sharpening like an animal that senses the upcoming danger. I hate the cold water and a rough sigh as I sit in the tub that comes out makes my older son ask nervously, what’s wrong? Is it cold? Why did you get in there?

katrefu001_400Go away. I can’t explain. But none of them move. They stand right there in the doorframe side by side, looking at me all confused with their eyes wide open and their rubber ducks in their hands and colored towels hanging on the floor. They don’t talk, or move. I don’t look at them. For an infinitesimal moment something crossed lighting my mind; It never took a real form in words to shape into a complete thought, but the moment was enough to create the image. I put the kids in the tub and watch them as they try in surprising fear to understand where all this wrong came from.

That cold feeling, the shuddering, the knocking teeth, the incapability to make it end, the parent who just sits there and looks doing nothing, while they don’t understand why mommy can’t do anything, since mommy can make everything possible; The devastating awareness that mommy and daddy are not the super heroes they thought they were. The awful awareness that this is not a bad dream from which they can wake up in their warm blankets, rub their eyes and run to the kitchen for their fresh toasted bread with honey and the warm milk watching cartoons, it is real and now they are in there, helpless, hopeless and frightened.

It’s something totally stupid what I do, I thought I wanted to see how it feels to be in the cold water, having your children writhing in the cold water while the dark mass of the seabed beetles like a black hole ready to suck you forever in its silent deadly depth. Behind my firmly shut eyes I can see me letting off their hands and watch them sink, thousands of unanswered whys in their eyes and not a single word comes out from my mouth, I try to think of what to choose among of our family’s memories that scatters right now and gets lost forever, their voices, their baby cries, their laugh or their tiny hands in mine, there are thousands of memories to hold tight in me but so many others that I was waiting for to come but I am not going to see them growing up, God, I am not going to see them growing up, I’ll have nailed in front of my eyes their sinking bodies that still fit in my arms and their last deep breath of Death instead.

I will have to struggle all my life finding a way to keep living with this image until I die, with an eternal and desperate voice inside me that screams MURDERERS!! to any direction, politicians, governments, simple human beings as I am, because all I see around me is just murderers, everyone is an accomplice in their horrible murders, by watching us dying in their monitors and changing the channel when they get bored, they are all murderers that still have a wonderful life waiting for them in safety, raising their kids, raising their grandkids, they are all murderers in my eyes for just being alive. Someone had told me once death is a part of life too, but I can’t accept that in any way, death has no place in any child’s life, death has no place in my children’s life.

But this is not the open cold black Aegean sea, it is not a runaway from a dissolved home in flames, it is only a harmless stupid bathtub in a safe warm house and the water might be cold but reaches only below my knees, I can get out any time I want and I am too blench to put my kids in there and stay unmoved in their look, I am too terrified to even let the thought complete in my mind.

I open my eyes and I pull the cap off and watch the water flow down and disappear. There is something from me going down there and lost. The kids are still there in the same position, rubber ducks in their hands, the little one steps awkwardly on his towel, staring at me worried, confused, with a question in their eyes that will never be asked because there is no answer and I shake my head to drive out the horrible worries, I get off the tub, put my clothes on, they see that I am back in normal again, they can tell that whatever I had is just gone, so the older one asks with a bit doubt in his voice, can we go play?

Yes, of course we can. Murderers, I whisper. Not only you take innocent lives, not only you take children’s lives, you make us your accomplices for putting on our shoulders this unbearable weight of help and support we must give to this people and we are going to do it in every way we can because we are humans, while the whole country and most of us can’t do anything anymore even for our own lives.

You turn us all into accomplices to murder, I feel a killer like you are, because you made me turn my head away when I see all this pain around me, you made me pretend that I don’t see the begging hands, I don’t see the raggedy bodies sleeping on the cold, dirty streets, you made me pretend that I don’t listen to their voices begging for a bread loaf, the shame in their broken voice begging for a bottle of milk while I can see and hear very well, but in every home now live 4 and 14 people struggling with half salary and I have nothing else to give except of the clothes I wear, I have nothing else to share except of my own food ration and I am sick of apologizing, I am so sick of apologizing that I don’t know how to help, so I pretend that I don’t see and don’t listen and then I hate myself for acting like a monster as you are.

Curse you.

Print - Comment - Send to a Friend - More from this Author

Get it off your chest
 (comments policy)

© Copyright CHAMELEON PROJECT Tmi 2005-2008  -  Sitemap  -  Add to favourites  -  Link to Ovi
Privacy Policy  -  Contact  -  RSS Feeds  -  Search  -  Submissions  -  Subscribe  -  About Ovi